


DMMd Music Drabbles

by ceasefire



Category: DRAMAtical Murder
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, Post-Canon, Pre-Canon, Threesome - M/M/M, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-21
Updated: 2012-06-20
Packaged: 2017-11-08 05:41:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/439770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ceasefire/pseuds/ceasefire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>DMMd drabbles of varying lengths, ratings and pairings, based around different songs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. His Most Beautiful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written to Never Gonna Give You Up by Rick Astley. Oh, the shame.
> 
> Virus/Aoba/Trip. Based off their Bad End. NSFW. Non-con warning.

Virus's predictions had been right; Aoba-san really was most beautiful when he was splayed out on their bed, covered in sweat and come, breaths coming so short and sharp as Virus pressed his fingers inside. Virus grinned fondly and glanced at Trip, who was in the process of pressing his cock against Aoba's closed lips. Trip caught Virus's eye just as Aoba relented and slid his tongue along the underside of Trip's dick, and Trip returned Virus's smile in a slightly lopsided, distracted sort of way.

It had been a risk to take Aoba right from under Toue's nose, but a rewarding one. And Aoba was growing more accustomed to them, too. Just the other day, they'd unlocked the shackle around his ankle to take him to the bath and he hadn't tried to fight them or run, not even once. It seemed their perseverance had paid off, and Aoba was finally theirs. Completely and utterly.

Virus exhaled slowly, breath ragged with lust as he unzipped his own pants. 

“You're so beautiful, Aoba-san,” Virus murmured, fingers twisting inside of Aoba just as he reached to stroke his own cock. “And we'll never let you go.”

“Never,” Trip agreed, one hand coming to rest on Aoba's cheek. Aoba moaned and Trip shuddered, hips pressing forward until the entire length of his cock disappeared past Aoba's lips. 

Aoba's eyes fell shut as Virus slid inside of him When tears formed at the corners of his eyes, Trip brushed them away. 

Yes, this was definitely Aoba-san at his most beautiful, and Virus knew that neither himself nor Trip would ever give this up.


	2. Insomnia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written to Insomnia by High and Mighty Color.
> 
> Clear/Aoba. Set after the end of Clear’s happy end. SFW.

“Are you sure you're alright?”

Clear smiled and nodded. “I'm fine, Aoba-san.”

Aoba frowned and squirmed closer to Clear. Clear kissed away the frown lines between Aoba's eyebrows and nuzzled his hair. 

“Just make sure you're getting enough rest,” Aoba said, bare toes curling against Clear's legs as Clear gently ran the ends of Aoba's hair through his fingertips. “If you break down again...”

“Please don't worry. Tae-san and everyone else did an excellent job of repairing me, so there's no need for concern.”

“... fine. Just make sure you get some rest. You sleep after I do and wake up before me...” Aoba said, trailing off with another frown. Clear nodded and wrapped his arms around Aoba, drawing him close and holding him until his expression and breathing evened out. Clear squirmed down against the pillows and pressed one palm against Aoba's breastbone, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath his skin. 

He couldn't sleep like this, not with Aoba this close to him. He was designed to wake if someone touched him; a sort of poorly-thought out self-preservation mechanism given to him by Toue. Toue had probably never assumed that one of his creations would ignore his will. Toue had probably never assumed that one of his creations would ever feel love as strong as the love that Clear knew he felt for Aoba. 

He didn't mind lying awake with Aoba in his arms. He looked so peaceful when he slept, so beautiful, and Clear almost felt honored to be able to hold Aoba while he was like this. He moved his hand from Aoba's chest and pulled him back into his arms with a soft sigh.

“I love you, Aoba-san.”

The soft, tired sigh of contentment and the arm that slid around his waist made Clear sure that this was certainly better than sleep.


	3. Drown Your Sorrows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written to Shut Up And Kiss Me by Orianthi.
> 
> Koujaku/Noiz. One-sided Koujaku/Aoba. Hints of consensual Virus/Aoba/Trip. Angsty. Mildly NSFW.

Noiz didn't know how he'd pissed off fate severely enough to end up in a bar with this idiot after a particularly rough Rhyme match late on a Sunday night, but it must have been something truly bad if he was suffering this much. 

The idiot was currently downing his fourth sake in as many minutes. His sword was leaning haphazardly against the bar and his kimono was hanging off his shoulder, giving him a disheveled look that looked more drunk than ragged. He ordered his fifth sake with an extremely off-target crook of the finger at the nearby bartender, and Noiz resisted the urge to roll his eyes and instead took a sip from his own drink.

“Then he told me he was going with these yakuza assholes tonight... something about them owing each other favors...” 

Noiz downed the rest of his drink and felt the room spin a little, but he ignored it. His own gesture to the bartender was much more precise, and a moment later he had a fresh drink in his hand... and a rather heavy arm around his shoulders.

“Oi, Piercing Brat.”

“Noiz.”

“What?”

“That's my name.”

“I'll use your name when you use mine.”

“... I don't know it.”

“Koujaku.”

“Right.”

“Anyway, Piercing Brat,” Koujaku continued, swaying slightly on the bar stool, “I was looking forward to seeing Aoba tonight...”

“Then why don't you go meet him?” Noiz didn't bother adding the _and leave me alone_ that he so desperately wanted to add, but hoped it came across in his face.

Koujaku's expression darkened and he shifted back onto his own stool, staring into his drink. “Those yakuza assholes... anyway, thought you'd be wanting to see Aoba too.”

“... why?”

“You want that Rhyme match with him.” Koujaku's speech was becoming more slurred; it made him harder to understand.

Noiz shrugged. He'd tried, but he'd been pissed off by Seragaki Aoba's dismissive nature towards the game and given up. It was no big loss, anyway. There were other matches he could win against people that annoyed him less.

Koujaku waited for a little longer, before taking Noiz's silence as his answer and continuing. “Either way, I wanted to see Aoba...”

This time Noiz did roll his eyes, and downed half of his drink in one go. He didn't know if this guy was just repeating himself or if he couldn't remember what he'd said sixty seconds beforehand, but it was getting on his nerves. Now the room was definitely spinning, and the bar was gradually emptying. The bartender announced that the next drinks would be the last, and Noiz downed the rest of his and pushed away from the bar.

“Oi.”

Noiz turned around and looked at the bartender. “What?” 

“Take your friend with you.”

“He's not my...” Noiz started, but Koujaku's arm was back around his shoulders and he figured that the best course of action was to drag both their asses out of the bar and into the small alley next to the bar before security decided to throw them both instead.

“... oi.”

“What?” Noiz said. He didn't know what the hell to do with this guy. He didn't want to have to contact Seragaki; for one, he doubted Seragaki's overbearing friend would be happy that he had it, and it wasn't as if Seragaki _knew_ he had the info anyway, so it was a lost cause. 

“Message Aoba. Use my coil.”

Well, that made things easier. The message was sent a few moments later, and about five minutes after that they received a reply that said that Aoba would meet them by the bar in about half an hour. 

“... don't even want to think about it.”

“Think about what?”

“Aoba. With them.”

“He's drinking with them instead of you. Deal with it.”

“... not drinking.”

That explained a lot. It still didn't mean Noiz wanted to have to play relationship therapist so this idiot could work out his more-than-platonic feelings for Seragaki Aoba.

“Should've been me.”

What had he done to deserve this? “Maybe he didn't ask because you never said anything.”

“... maybe.”

“Nothing's going to change unless you shut up and make a move.”

“... right. You're not so bad, brat.”

Noiz didn't pay a single bit of attention to the way Koujaku was shifting until he felt the other man's teeth on his neck. Noiz didn't move, didn't say a thing until Koujaku bit again, harder this time.

“... what are you doing?” Noiz asked. He didn't try to move away or force Koujaku to let him go. Koujaku's eyes lingered somewhere on the ground near Noiz's feet.

“Don't ask me why.”

“Wasn't planning to.”

“Good. Because I don't even know.”

Koujaku's teeth went back to his neck then. Noiz didn't complain. True, he was in a dirty alley behind a bar with a guy he could barely tolerate... but he'd hard sex in worse places, with worse people. No need to be shy about things like this. And so the next time Koujaku bit down, Noiz groaned for added effect and reached for the obi on Koujaku's kimono. 

“This is wrong,” Koujaku muttered, shuddering as Noiz's hands slid over his bare skin. “This is bad.”

Noiz rolled his eyes and dragged Koujaku closer. “You want to stop?”

Koujaku hesitated for a moment, obviously considering his response with more care than Noiz had seen him show the entire night. After about thirty seconds, he slowly shook his head.

“Good. Then shut up,” Noiz said, leaning forward to press his lips against Koujaku's, surprised but pleased to find Koujaku's tongue sliding past his lips. 

Forty minutes later, when Seragaki arrived to pick up Koujaku from the front step of the bar (with several apologies to Noiz on Koujaku's behalf), Noiz shrugged and said he'd had nothing better to do anyway. Koujaku was so incoherent he could barely speak, but the only thing he did say was _sorry_ to Aoba, over and over again. Aoba told him he should apologise to Noiz instead, but Noiz shrugged and said he didn't care. It'd been worth it; Koujaku had used just the right amount of roughness when he'd stroked Noiz's cock, a sort of uneven pressure that probably came from a combination of drunkenness and frustration that had Noiz coming harder and faster than he usually did.

Noiz groaned, stretched, stood up and began the long trek back to his own apartment. Perhaps the night hadn't turned out too badly after all.


	4. Poker Face

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written to Poker Face by Lady Gaga.
> 
> Koujaku/Aoba. Set after Koujaku’s good end. SFW.

Aoba came home from his morning errands one weekend to Koujaku styling a woman's hair in front of the mirror in their bedroom. There was a part of him that sewed a tiny seed of doubt in his mind, intending to spread insecurity even when the rest of him knew that it was ridiculous to worry. It had taken Koujaku almost a year and a half to ask Aoba if it was okay if he served customers in his – their – home again, and Aoba had agreed without a second thought. However, this was the first time it had actually happened since Koujaku had asked.

The woman in the chair turned around in surprise as the door swung shut behind Aoba, but relaxed when she saw Aoba.

“You must be Koujaku's roommate. He told me you'd be returning soon, so I wouldn't get surprised... guess that didn't work very well.”

“No harm done,” Koujaku said, through a mouthful of what looked like hair pins. 

“Sorry to intrude,” Aoba said, and the woman shook her head. When she moved, Aoba noticed that Koujaku had placed several tiny crystals in her hair. In the light, it made her look almost surreal.

“We'll be done soon,” Koujaku said, giving Aoba a brief smile before turning back to the woman. “Is that comfortable?”

“It's perfect. Of course, I wouldn't expect less from you... you're the only one I would trust with this, Koujaku. This is such an important day, and... I want it to go well.”

Aoba felt a streak of pride for Koujaku's work. It was strange; before they'd become lovers he'd been irritated by the praise Koujaku received for his work, but now it made him feel oddly happy. He edged past Koujaku and the woman and went to put away the groceries he'd bought.

About ten minutes later, Aoba heard the door swing shut again and Koujaku came into the kitchen.

“She's gone now. Sorry.”

“No need to be sorry,” Aoba said. “It's your job, after all.”

“Mmm, just as long as you don't think I was fooling around behind your back.”

“... you were styling her hair,” Aoba said with a barely-suppressed grin. He walked back into their bedroom to help Koujaku clean his equipment, and Koujaku sighed.

“I know, but still...”

“For something important, it seemed.”

“It's her wedding day.”

Aoba sighed and turned away from Koujaku so he could get control of his expression. This seemed to make Koujaku nervous, because a moment later he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Aoba...?”

“Koujaku,” Aoba said, turning around on his heel with a grin. “You're an idiot. I wasn't worried. What I mean is... I trust you.”

Koujaku scowled, but his cheeks were red. “Saying things like that after you made me so nervous with that blank look.”

Aoba leaned his head against Koujaku's hand for a moment, and Koujaku's expression softened. 

“Well, you gave me no reason to worry. Not really. Besides...”

“Besides what?”

“If you were really serious about her... there would probably be blood all over the place from your nose.”

Aoba didn't get a response, but found himself being shoved back onto the bed a moment later by an irate Koujaku. Well, it had been worth it. 

Especially when you considered the fact that it wasn't too hard to coax Koujaku onto the bed after him.


	5. If I Had You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written to If I Had You by Adam Lambert.
> 
> Trip and Virus. Pre-canon, pre-slash, heavy on headcanon. Mildly NSFW due to violence.

Last night had been hell, to put it simply. Some idiot had let a few members of a rival gang into one of the Boss's clubs, and now Trip found himself called in as part of the cleanup crew. Well, not a traditional cleanup crew; that would be left to one of the several building companies to boss paid off so they would serve his interests. This was less professional. There were only so many ways you could haul a corpse and still look like your dignity was in tact.

The ground was covered in belongings people had dropped so they could save their own asses quicker, blood, and broken glass from the lights that had once hung over the dance floor. The floor itself was splintered, scuffed and completely written off; the Boss wasn't going to be pleased with this. He would bet his life that he would be the one who had to tell the Boss too, and the thought alone made about ten years drop off his life span. When he'd joined these guys he'd expected more than what he got. He wasn't the snot-nosed kid looking for experience anymore, but he knew he couldn't branch off on his own without support. Trip scowled and kicked a chunk of yellow glass across the floor. The glass hit the opposite wall loudly and shattered against a door. A moment later, a dark-haired head poked around the door and glared out into the room.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Trip replied. The other man squinted over thick-rimmed glasses and then pushed them back up the bridge of his nose.

“You got sent here by the Boss?”

Trip nodded, and the other man smiled. 

“Good. I need some help in here.”

Trip walked over, broken glass crunching under his shoes as he made his way to the back room. It appeared to be a private booth of some sort, and as Trip closed in on the door he realised that the other side of it was covered in fresh blood. The other man held out his hand and tossed his hair out of his eyes.

“Virus.”

Trip hesitated for only a moment before shaking the offered hand. “Trip.”

Virus grinned. “You look nervous. Do I make you nervous, Trip-san?”

“... no,” Trip replied. Nervous wasn't the right word for it. Suspicious, maybe. Even if they were working for the same guy, there was no point in making friends if he was just planning to branch out on his own.

As he stepped around the door and into the booth, Trip noticed the source of the blood; a man who probably would have been a foot taller than he himself was if he still had the top of his head. Trip wrinkled his nose.

“How the hell did that happen?”

Virus shrugged. “I really have no clue. All I know is that I can't lift him on my own.”

“And you want me to help.”

“If you could.”

Trip picked up the corpse beneath the arms and Virus grabbed his legs. He was still damn heavy, but it was definitely easier than doing it alone. Trip could see why Virus would've had trouble alone. 

They dropped the guy's body off near the rest – a high number, Trip noted vaguely as he watched Virus cover the corpse unceremoniously with a black plastic sheet – and walked back into the ruined club together. 

Virus clicked his tongue irritably. “This is a mess.”

“You're telling me.”

“Things are getting more dangerous here. More careless, too.”

“Yeah, but what can you do?”

“The Boss could do a lot more.”

Trip raised an eyebrow at Virus and Virus shrugged.

“It's true.”

“You're lucky that it's me who heard you say that.”

“Because others wouldn't be so forgiving? Or because you agree?”

Trip said nothing. Virus smiled thinly and tossed his hair out of his eyes again.

“There are a lot of people thinking the same thing, actually.”

“And how do you know this?”

“I watch. I listen. People are getting fed up. And when people are unhappy, they're more liable to stab you in the back.”

“Like you're going to do.”

Virus's smile broadened. “Are you going to tell the Boss?”

“What if I was planning on it?”

“I would kill you.”

“I'd like to see you try.”

Virus sighed. “There's no point.”

Trip scoffed. “Because?”

“I already know you're not going to tell him.”

“Why?”

“Because you agree with what I said.”

Trip glanced at Virus. The other man was still smiling, his glasses falling down the bridge of his nose again and his dark hair falling into his eyes, crisp suit impeccable despite the rough work they were both doing. He didn't paint a particularly threatening picture, but that meant nothing in this world.

Virus smiled again as Trip appraised him, and took a step forward when Trip nodded once at him. “So, we have a deal.”

“Not yet. We need to plan this.”

“Of course. But that can be done later,” Virus said, before almost stepping directly into the gaping, open chest cavity of another cadaver. “After all of this.”

Trip nodded. “Sounds like a plan.”

Virus bent down to search the corpse for valuables, and came up with a pair of heavy-looking green and black earrings. “These look interesting.” He tossed one of the earrings to Trip, who caught it in one hand. “Consider that a memento.”

Trip turned the earring over in his palm. “Sure.”

“By the way, may I ask a question?”

“Go ahead.”

“Why do you trust me?”

Trip snorted. “I don't. Not yet. But I have no reason to think you've lied about anything.”

Virus frowned and averted his eyes, as if he was in deep thought. A moment later, his eyes snapped back to Trip. “Actually, I did lie. Just once.”

“Oh?”

Virus stood up and moved close enough to Trip to whisper. His breath was hot, but it still made Trip shiver to feel it against the shell of his ear. “I do know what happened to that guy. The tall one. I was on guard duty last night, and he got in my way.”

Trip smirked. “I guess it's good that we made this deal, then.”

“Yes,” Virus smirked. “Very good. I'll see you later.”

Virus was gone in an instant, leaving Trip alone and with a stomach that was practically knotting itself in anticipation.

This was going to be the start of something big.


End file.
